Giant Crab Seafood Restaurant

In any world bearing the faintest resemblance to our own, a monstrous crab stationed atop a restaurant door, eight-foot claws ready to clack trespassers in half, would serve as an efficient deterrent.

Who would come within 100 yards of the place? It would be the food-industry equivalent of a castle with a dragon perched on a turret.

The crab would have his way with the frightened hordes, the puny humans suddenly impotent, their hands full of useless weapons.

His laughter would rain down upon them all like ashes!

But we're not in the real world. We're in Suicidefoodland, where reason cowers in the shadows. And where a gigantic crab forfeits his own terrible power in order to welcome people to dine on crabs.

It's only the latest in the tiresome series of so-called submissive dominants, massive brutes who turn down the chance to destroy their attackers and instead submit to a longed-for victimhood. We've seen them many times (for instance, in this post from 2009). And now it's the crab's turn to forsake vengeance and honor. And sense. And crabs.